


Somebody To Love

by SennyriNamis23



Series: Play The Game (of Love) [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort Sex, M/M, Multiple Inquisitors (Dragon Age), straight up porn, well it's gay porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SennyriNamis23/pseuds/SennyriNamis23
Summary: Emprise du Lion - a horrible, freezing wasteland filled with Red Templars and reminders of just how far from home Dorian really is. His disgust and discomfort is obvious to everyone and bleeding into their own headspaces. Fortunately, Ellior Lavellan is there to warm up his outsides and his insides.
Relationships: Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus
Series: Play The Game (of Love) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044882
Kudos: 19





	Somebody To Love

Dorian grumbled as he blew on his hands, “Mountains. Cold. ‘Let’s bring Dorian!’”

“You could have stayed home,” Yveriel retorted, annoyed. He’d basically complained about the cold nonstop since they left Skyhold.

“And leave you to fend for yourselves? Or with Solas? I’d rather freeze to death,” he replied.

Ellior smiled, pulling his hood up over his ears to shelter himself from a particularly frosty breeze.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know Ellie gave you sad puppy eyes when he asked you to come,” Sera chirped, picking up a sad looking stem of elfroot and then tossing it aside, “You can’t resist his puppy eyes.”

Ellior blushed, eyes wide under his hood. It was one thing to wield the puppy eyes, it was entirely another to know that everyone else knew that he did. And that Dorian always responded in the same way.

The Iron Bull went to open his mouth to add in, but Nihkaani held out her hand authoritatively, her patience unusually thin, “Enough.”

Everyone was silent after that.

They wandered through the little village of Sahrnia, the air heavy on them as they listened to grieving mothers and widows, starving children, and an old woman who had lost a ring. A Chantry sister sang a quiet hymn for the mound of dead bodies covered in snow. Most of the buildings were destroyed, with maybe two or three left standing to house the dozen or so villagers.

Nihkaani introduced herself to Mistress Poulin, the apparent leader of the village.

Yveriel ran back up to camp to coordinate with Scout Harding to bring them supplies from Skyhold.

Sera sort of stood around looking lost. “No rich arseholes to dick with. Everyone here’s sad and hungry.” Eventually she started playing a skipping game with a handful of kids.

The Iron Bull found the one guard of the town - an Orlesian nobleman named Michel de Chevin - to help him strategize his defense of the people here.

Ellior took Dorian’s hand and led him out onto the frozen river. He slid a little at first, the Tevinter having had zero experience with ice. But Ellior smiled silently and held his hands as they wandered out towards the Rift. Neither of them could stand talking to the villagers any longer, and Nihkaani said she’d grab Sera and join them as soon as she was finished getting details of what happened. The two of them could certainly handle the demons the Rift threw at them in the meantime before the Herald of Andraste showed up to close it.

“Are you alright?” Ellior asked.

Dorian stopped, “Me? Of course. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, “You just seem… more melancholic than usual. Is it just the cold, or is something bothering you?”

He paused for a minute, body softening as he reached to hold Ellior’s cheek. “I’m alright, amatus,” he reassured, leaning down to rest his forehead against Ellior’s, “I’m just suffering from a bout of homesickness. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Ellior kissed him gently, feeling his heart swell at Dorian’s use of his affectionate nickname, “Promise?”

Dorian nodded, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips, “By my honor.”

“Alright,” he replied, turning back toward the Rift, “Do you think ruining some demons’ days will help?”

That smile turned into a smirk as he agreed, “It can’t hurt.”

\---

Unfortunately, killing demons and Red Templars only helped so much, and Dorian’s unhappiness was practically palpable as they wandered through Emprise du Lion. Yveriel was clearly frustrated by it, but kept quiet. Nihkaani was still oddly tense, and Sera was still a little lost, and Iron Bull definitely needed to hit something big with his axe.

So when they cleared the Templar encampment at Drakon’s Rise, Ellior suggested they stop and make camp for the night.

“It’s only mid-afternoon, surely we can make more headway,” Yveriel protested.

He pointed to the sun, which was deep in the southern part of the western sky, “We only have a couple hours of light left. I would rather take our time than get caught in a freezing cold night. Besides, I think we could all use a break to reset before we get to Suledin’s Keep.”

Nihkaani nodded, “He’s right. We should reserve our strength when we can. Let’s camp here and get our soldiers set up for the night.”

So they set to work pitching tents, starting fires, building scaffolding to watch the valley below. There was at least one more Rift they’d need to deal with tomorrow.

About an hour in, Iron Bull came over to Dorian, putting a giant hand to his shoulder.

“You doing all right, Dorian? I know family stuff can be rough.”

He huffed in annoyance, “What would you know about it? True Qunari don't have families.”

Iron Bull was patient, recognizing his defensive mechanism easily at this point, “Finding out you don't fit in with the people who raised you? Having to walk away from everything you grew up with, knowing you've disappointed the ones who loved you?”

He paused for a second before he finished, “I might know a bit. Takes a tough man to do it, too. So good on you, you big old fop.”

Dorian’s response was sardonic, “Yay. Good on me.”

Bull slapped Dorian on the back, giving him a heart-felt laugh before he wandered off to help with some other task.

Reflexively, Ellior reached for his hand, but he’d already brought it to his chest. So he instead tugged on the sleeves of his shirt as if that was what he’d intended all along.

“I’m alright,” Dorian said, anticipating his next question while not making eye contact, “I just… I just wish it wasn’t so fucking cold.”

\---

Three hours later, the sun had set and the six of them sat around a fire as Inquisition soldiers tended to the camp. Nihkaani was telling them stories of her childhood here, jumping in the snow and building little snow Qunari before her parents made her tear them down.

“Wait, you grew up here? This is the ass-end of nowhere! How did you even get here from Par Vollen?” Iron Bull asked.

Nihkaani shook her head, “We only lived here for a year or so when I was eight. My family was more or less nomadic until I was in my teens.”

“That’s crazy!” Sera declared, “No wonder you’re so tough!”

Yveriel sipped a mug of cider and pulled her blanket around her shoulders, “Your parents did a remarkable job covering their tracks. Leliana and I found no trace of your existence before you joined Joey’s mercenary band.”

Nihkaani smiled, but her eyes were distant, “That was the idea.”

“Why’d you leave?” Sera asked, clearly enraptured with her history.

Nihkaani shrugged and gave a noncommittal answer. Ellior knew more than most about her family, but even he had never been privy to her reasons for leaving them. It was a secret she guarded more closely than any other.

Dorian shivered next to him, and tried to curl up even further into his wool blanket, to no avail. Ellior pressed himself up against his side quietly, then threw his own blanket around the both of them. He went to curl himself around Dorian’s exposed shoulder, but felt him tense up uncomfortably.

He pulled back, bringing his feet up on the log they sat on and wrapping his arms around them, again tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. The rest of the conversation was lost to the wind of his worried thoughts.

Dorian shifted next to him, slid a little closer as if in an apology. Then he stood abruptly, shaking off Ellior’s blanket and returning it to him.

“Well this has been incredibly grand,” he announced, “but I think I’m going to head to bed and hope this freezing wasteland was all just an elaborate nightmare that will disappear in the morning.”

Everyone else rolled their eyes and sent him off.

Ellior watched him go, a frown tugging at his lips. He didn’t want to press the issue, didn’t want to invade Dorian’s privacy, so he eventually turned his head back to the fire. But as the others went back to their conversation about Nihkaani’s childhood pet nug, he couldn’t focus.

It had been a long time since Dorian had shook off his touch.

After awhile of stewing, Yveriel put a hand on his and squeezed. He looked to her, shaking himself out of his own thoughts. She smiled a little, then motioned with her head to Dorian’s tent.

He hesitated, pursing his lips and furrowing his brows.

She shook her head, making an exaggerated frown in return and quirking her eyebrow up. Squeezing her hand on his again, she whispered, “ _Go._ ”

He didn’t even say anything, but somehow Yveriel’s nudge got him up and he followed Dorian back to his tent, wool blanket draped over his shoulders.

If the others said anything, Ellior didn’t notice.

\---

“Vhenan?” he asked outside the tent.

Dorian sighed heavily from inside, “Come in, amatus.”

Ellior entered slowly, unsure of the best way to approach him. Evidently gentle touches and words of encouragement weren’t enough to bring him out of his melancholy.

He was curled up in a pile of pillows, two blankets wrapped around him, and a third laying over his feet. Small candles surrounded him on the floor, and a book rested in his lap. Silver eyes peeked out from the blanket draped over his head.

Ellior couldn’t help but smile a little at the scene before him.

Dorian chuckled half-heartedly, and threw the top blanket off, “It’s not particularly distinguished, I’ll give you that much.”

Ellior took a few steps closer, pushing a few candles out of his way with the side of his foot so he could sit directly across from him.

“You didn’t have to take it off for my sake,” he replied, reaching out and cupping the side of his face.

Dorian didn’t pull away. That was a start.

He was cool to the touch, though, and Ellior could feel him shivering under his hand.

“No one told me it would hurt so much,” Dorian said quietly.

“Being cold?” he asked, “Or leaving home?”

He shook his head, “My feet are both numb and in agonizing pain. How does that even happen?”

Ellior shuffled forward a little more, sitting on his knees now, and threw his blanket around the two of them in a vain attempt to warm him. Dorian leaned forward far enough to rest his head on Ellior’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Ellior said, “I shouldn’t have asked you to come out here with us. I know how much you hate the cold.”

Dorian shook his head, “I’d rather be here with you. I’d rather freeze to death with you than stay back in Skyhold alone.”

Ellior pressed a kiss to his head and breathed out a little laugh, “You’re very sentimental, Master Pavus.”

He looked up but didn’t move out of Ellior’s shoulder, those silver eyes glittering in the low candlelight, “I suppose I am. What can I say? I’ve been bewitched.”

He ran his hands through Dorian’s hair, pulling him a little closer, “Oh? Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t know him,” he replied, with a touch of his normal humor, “He can’t keep his nose out of a book. I can hardly ever find some time alone with him - there’s always some tome or meeting needing his attention.”

They both laughed a little, and Ellior wrapped his arms around Dorian, holding the blanket closed behind him.

A gust of wind hit the tent canvas, just enough cold air sneaking in that it blew out the candles and sent a deep shiver down Dorian’s spine.

“No wonder you’re so cold,” Ellior commented, unwrapping himself from Dorian and standing up so he could light all the candles again. He left the blanket behind though.

It didn’t take much effort to set them all alight again, but he also stopped at the small table on the far side of the tent and rummaged through the contents of the standard pack on top of it. He pulled out a handful of stakes and a blank rune.

He went to turn on his heel, but Dorian wrapped his arms around his waist from behind, gently resting his head on Ellior’s shoulder.

Ellior put the things in his hands back on the table, running his fingers over Dorian’s forearms, “I was coming right back, vhenan.”

“You took my heat source,” he replied, pressing himself even closer against him. He was still trembling.

Ellior turned around in his arms and kissed him, long and slow and gentle. Just enough to procure a quiet whine from Dorian when he pulled back.

“Should we do something about that?” Ellior asked, voice low.

With a sudden burst of desire, Dorian pushed him against the table, cupping his face in his hands and kissing him. His teeth pulled on Ellior’s bottom lip and he let out a quiet, needy moan as he dug his fingers into Dorian’s hips to keep himself upright.

Dorian clearly delighted in the noise, pulling away for only a second before diving in for more, sliding his tongue between their open lips. Ellior replied in kind, tasting the remnants of hot cider in the corners of his mouth.

Kissing him had always been intoxicating, but never like this. Ellior’s cock hardened, and the longer they kissed, the hotter he felt. Dorian was practically pressed against him, pinning him against the table with his frame and his constant kissing.

Dorian’s thigh pushed against Ellior’s legs, pressing against his length. Even through the kisses, he could feel the man’s wicked grin.

“Happy to see me, amatus?” he rasped, his own hunger coloring his tone.

Ellior replied breathlessly, “Always, _vhenan_.” He took care to purr the Elven endearment, and was rewarded with a pleased and hungry grunt from Dorian.

His mind was swimming in fog, ecstasy and desire bombarding all of his senses. Dorian completely consumed him, kissing him, biting his lips, leaving a trail of nibbles along the scar on his face up to his ear. His hands moved from Ellior’s face to his shoulders, then down further, sliding beneath his overcoat. Ellior moaned again, then caught Dorian’s mouth in another kiss as he draped his arms over his shoulders.

“ _Dorian_ ,” he breathed, a prayer and a call and a plea all at once.

“Tell me what you want, amatus,” came the reply.

“You,” he replied, kissing him again between every word, “Just you. Always you.”

He scraped his fingers lightly along the top of Dorian’s spine, up the back of his neck, and sunk his fingers into his hair. He tugged gently as Dorian’s cold fingers found his skin beneath his layers of clothing and the two of them both let out breathy, needy moans.

After a short, breath-catching moment, Dorian’s hands deftly untied the waistband on Ellior’s trousers while still pressing him against the table. Ellior’s hips rolled up to him, but Dorian just tsked playfully and pressed his thigh against him again, eliciting another little moan in the process.

“Patience, amatus.”

Ellior grunted, wriggling beneath Dorian’s ironclad grasp on his waist, “You know that’s not one of my strengths.”

He laughed then, sweetly and contentedly, pressing another kiss to Ellior’s cheek. It was gentle, but all the more infuriating for it.

The only thing Ellior could do was dazedly fumble at the buckles around Dorian’s shoulders, managing to finagle only two of them loose while Dorian kissed up and down his neck and nuzzled against his shoulder.

Suddenly, though, another gust of wind blew through the tent, and Dorian shivered uncomfortably.

“Damn cold,” Ellior muttered, finding just enough space to push Dorian away from him so he could collect the materials on the table again.

Dorian licked his lips wickedly, despite his tremors, “Are we going to let a little wind stop us from our passionate lovemaking?”

Ellior handed him the rune and pressed a kiss to his cheek as he went by. His voice was still hoarse with desire as he replied, “Of course not. Once the tent is secured enough that it won’t blow away on us, and that rune is enchanted to keep the cot warm, I have every intention of devouring and being devoured by you.”

“I take it I’m supposed to enchant the rune?”

Ellior raised an eyebrow at him, “If you have the stamina.”

Dorian laughed, “You’re very bold, Inquisitor Lavellan.”

Ellior stopped in his tracks, even as he knelt on the far side of the tent with the stakes in his hand, “Is… is that not what you want? Do you want something else?”

“ _Maker, no_. I’ve wanted this for months now.”

He turned to the tent so Dorian wouldn’t see him blush, “Yeah? Months?”

Dorian chuckled, “Longer than I’d like to admit. You’re a very attractive man, you know.”

Ellior pressed the stakes through the canvas into the ground, “You think so? I’m not nearly as handsome as you.”

“Oh, darling, no one is as handsome as me.”

He might have laughed in that moment, if Dorian hadn’t come up behind him and put a hand to his chest, pulling Ellior against him.

Instead, he inhaled sharply in surprise, then found himself pushed onto the mountain of pillows that Dorian had somehow managed to swindle for himself.

Dorian straddled him, pressed his hands to Ellior’s shoulders, and leaned down to kiss him again. Harder than before. He was needy and greedy, and sweet Maker was he handsome. The shadows thrown by the candles only seemed to accentuate his cheekbones and his jawline. His eyes were dark, and when he pushed himself back up off Ellior, he could see how wild and stormy they were.

He suddenly had a pressing need to see Dorian’s skin glisten with sweat.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” Dorian said seriously, softly, tugging off his gauntlets and discarding them on the floor beside them.

Ellior reached up and pulled him back down by the collar of his under armor, kissing him entirely ungracefully.

Dorian just laughed and sat up, “Patience, amatus. You’re still wearing far too many articles of clothing.”

If he’d been even a little less cognisant, he probably would have set his clothes ablaze to remove them faster.

Instead, he quickly shimmied out of his overcoat and tossed it aside, then gasped as Dorian threw his freezing cold hands under the rest of his layers of clothing and dragged them across his skin as he pushed them up and over his head.

Just as his armor was shucked over his head, Dorian pressed fluttering kisses to his exposed abdomen, sending all sorts of signals to Ellior’s brain which just resulted in him moaning louder than before. He tried to reach for Dorian, to bring him back to kiss and touch and feel against his bare skin, but as soon as his robes were discarded, Dorian pushed himself back up onto his knees, just out of reach.

Ellior let out a little whine, feeling hot despite the temperature.

Dorian grinned wickedly again, slowly hooking his thumbs beneath the waistband of Ellior’s pants, rubbing little circles with his thumbs against his hips.

“ _Amatus_ ,” he purred, bending down to kiss Ellior’s navel. He was gentle, but Ellior could feel the hunger and need building in him, too.

He sank his hands into Dorian’s hair while he could still reach it, tugging on him, pulling him back up to kiss him.

“Amatus,” Dorian protested weakly as he found his way back up Ellior’s torso, “I don’t think I can remove the rest of your clothing from up here.”

Ellior caught his mouth in a hard kiss, “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Then, before Dorian could reply, Ellior found the third buckle around his shoulder, somehow undoing it deftly and yanking his armor off his torso.

He ran his hands up and down his skin, feeling his muscular frame and soft skin beneath his fingers. Dorian arched his back and moaned into another kiss with his hands planted on the floor on either side of his shoulders, up far enough now that Ellior could feel his stiff cock against his own through their pants.

“Enjoying yourself?” Ellior asked between kisses.

Dorian grunted, “Shut up.”

“Whatever you say, _vhenan_.”

A shiver went down Dorian’s spine at the endearment, and Ellior chuckled quietly.

“You’re a horrible man,” Dorian protested, but he took the underside of his forearms and pressed soft kisses to the scars that littered them. Ellior hummed beneath him, delighting in the gentleness, but yearning for far more lustful gestures.

Dorian seemed to sense his need, and he resumed his journey of kissing down the side of Ellior’s neck and shoulders, then across his chest - pausing and taking his time on his nipples, flicking his tongue across them. Ellior bucked his hips up to him at the sensation, but Dorian still straddled him firmly and pressed him down with ease and a satisfied hum.

“Now, where were we?” he mused, looping his thumbs under Ellior’s waistband again, but this time foregoing the tempting circles and mischievous touches. With a flick of his wrists, Ellior lay completely naked beneath him.

Dorian’s eyes turned hungry at the sight before him, and Ellior swelled a little with pride as his eyes roamed his body and took it in slowly.

But then he dove down again, dragging his tongue slowly around Ellior’s cock, licking off the bead of arousal at its tip.

Ellior let out another moan, willing himself not to lose complete control. Not five seconds after losing the last of his clothes. He could last longer than that, surely.

Dorian drew him in his mouth slowly, inch by agonizing inch, and Ellior wasn’t actually sure he could hold himself together.

He started to jerk his hips upward again, but Dorian’s hand found them before they collided with his face, laughing as he released Ellior’s cock from his mouth. He grinned, satisfied with himself, as he took Ellior’s length in his hands, stroking up and down gently, teasing him.

He grunted against the pillows, feeling his orgasm building at Dorian’s touch, but also missing the feeling of Dorian’s whole body smothering him.

“Patience, amatus,” Dorian reassured, as if he could hear his thoughts, “I’ll always return to you. Enjoy this first.”

And then his mouth was on him again, warm and slick. He flicked his tongue against Ellior, sucked on the tip of his cock, and drew his hands around Ellior’s ass.

What resulted was pure ecstasy; as Ellior came, Elven endearments on his tongue, the world fell away from them. The only thing he could focus on was Dorian and his own pleasure, coursing through him like streaks of lightning from head to toe. He actually wasn’t positive that he didn’t let out a bit of static shock from his hands.

But Dorian didn’t comment if he did. He took his time cleaning up Ellior’s still tender cock, licking the remaining seed.

Once he deemed his work done, Dorian kissed his way back up Ellior’s body and then laid beside him.

Ellior didn’t waste time; he pushed Dorian onto his back and peeled off his pants and boots somewhat less gracefully than Dorian had his. But he, too, was rewarded by the sight in front of him.

Dorian, in all his unrestrained glory. Golden brown skin slick with sweat and lust, shimmering in the low candlelight. The muscles in his arms and chest were accentuated by the flickering shadows in the tent. His hair was a little messier than he normally allowed, but it only added to the charm of seeing him completely naked for the first time.

And then there was the curve of his ass to his hips, and his long, hard member.

“ _Wow_.”

The word fell out of Ellior’s mouth without his permission, which pleased Dorian to no end. He snorted in his laughter, but before he could get out a snarky reply, Ellior lunged at his mouth, kissing him hard.

Dorian unraveled into a moan, kissing him back just as hard. His hands went limp beside them as he let Ellior have his way with him. It was strange to Ellior - not moments ago, Dorian had been in total control, relishing in the things he could do with his own power, and now he was willingly submitting to Ellior. But he didn’t question it aloud.

He kissed him more, putting his hand between the two of them and working his way down Dorian’s body. He dragged his fingers against his skin, delighting in the moans and wriggles from Dorian that followed.

Dorian brought his hands back up to cup Ellior’s ass and he squeaked in surprise. But he was also relieved to feel Dorian take some more control again.

“ _Amatus,_ ” he breathed beneath him.

Ellior kissed him again, tugging on his bottom lip, “Tell me what you want, vhenan.”

“ _More._ ”

Ellior smiled, then pressed his tongue through Dorian’s mouth at the same time he squeezed his hands on his hips. Dorian let out a long, husky moan into his mouth, his hands squeezing again on Ellior’s ass.

Ellior pressed his thigh more purposefully against Dorian’s length, and he practically vibrated beneath him, all but falling apart. So Ellior finally separated from their greedy kisses, gazing for just a moment at Dorian’s plump and swollen lips before he descended. He ran his hands over Dorian’s cock, stroking the length of it gently.

“Amatus, if you don’t put your mouth on my dick this instant-”

Ellior sucked on him, cutting off the end of his sentence and eliciting another long moan from Dorian. His hands were reaching for him, but just couldn’t reach as he shook and rolled his hips from the buildup.

He came up for air just long enough to coax Dorian, whispering, “Let go, ma vhenan. You’ve held on long enough.”

As soon as his mouth was on him again, Dorian had his release, quietly saying Ellior’s name as his seed spilled into his mouth.

Ellior swallowed, gently cleaning his cock just as Dorian had done earlier. Dorian trembled beneath him, breathing heavily in the aftermath. Ellior sat up and gazed at him again, his skin glistening now. His eyes were cloudy as he recovered his senses, so Ellior just took his hand and settled in beside him, resting his head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat.

After a moment, Dorian looked at him and pressed a kiss to his forehead with a content hum. Ellior smiled, tilting his head up and kissing him again. There was nothing lustful about it now, both of them laying happily beside each other.

The heat of their sex wore off quickly, and after a few minutes of laying quietly on each other, Ellior reached behind him and dragged a blanket over them. He took the opportunity to press one of his legs between Dorian’s as he cuddled back into him.

“Are you alright, Dorian?” he asked quietly.

Dorian laughed, “We just had the best sex I’ve had in _years_ , and you’re worried that I’m alright?”

Ellior squeezed his hand, “You’ve just been so miserable lately. I don’t know that sex will fix that.”

Dorian shook his head and sighed, “You’re probably right on that count.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, propping himself up on an elbow and moving his fingers along Dorian’s jawline.

He sighed again, “It’s just homesickness, Ellior. The colder it gets, the less I can ignore how far I am from everything I’ve ever known and everyone who’s ever loved me. It’s irrational, I know, but I feel… alone down here.”

“Is there something I can do to help?”

Dorian pulled their hands up and kissed the scars on his forearm again with a tired grin, “The sex was a pretty good start, amatus. Beyond that, I’m not sure.”

Ellior settled back into his side again, cuddling into him and drawing on his warmth, “Let me know if you think of anything?”

Dorian nodded, but his eyes closed sleepily, “Mmmm.”

Ellior put his head back on Dorian’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath. And he thought for a moment, lingering on Dorian’s words, being away from everyone who had ever loved him.

And he thought about the friends who joined them. Thought about the sibling rivalry Dorian and Sera had, ribbing each other and competing in insults. Thought about the roaring laughter of the Iron Bull in the dining hall whenever Dorian complained about the alcohol, then sliding him a swig of the good stuff he’d swindled away for the Chargers. Thought about the outrageous stories he and Varric swapped, both of them exaggerating wildly. Thought about the immediate respect and recognition he and Vivienne had given each other - both of them adept at political shenanigans and social posturing and incredibly powerful with magic. Thought about the relaxed, yet competitive chess games Cullen played with him. Thought about the way Nihkaani dropped everything to bring him to meet his father. Thought about trouble Yveriel went through just to find the Venatori he’d known.

He thought about his own feelings towards Dorian. Feelings he was still too afraid to admit out loud.

After a long moment, he reached up to kiss Dorian’s cheek, then whispered nearly silently, “I wish you could see just how loved you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the lovely Defira for being my beta reader! You are a true friend and I'm very grateful!!


End file.
